Jelly Belly

I desperately need to start exercising.  I know it, and I think about it a lot, it’s just seems really hard to do.  I’ve been running out of excuses rapidly so when I saw one of the local children’s centres was offering free pilates classes with a crèche I signed up for one session.

I wasn’t sure what to expect.  The last pilates session I’d done in LA involved what looked like a torture rack for manipulation (I think it’s called a reformer).  I figured as this was a free class it would be a bit more low-key and maybe not that good.

The class started at 10.30am and I almost didn’t go.  I was exhausted from T’s restless night. The centre is a half hour walk away and when I got up at 7.30 this morning the snow flurries nearly convinced me to stay indoors.

In the end I decided it wouldn’t be fair to waste the crèche place, especially as they seemed to be in demand, so I put T in the sling and we set off at 9.30am.  I wanted to get there half an hour early to feed her, check her nappy and make sure she was settled at the crèche.  I’d never left her in the care of someone unfamiliar but I’d visited the centre the week before to check it out and the staff were all really friendly.

I’m so glad I went.   The class involved floor work on a mat and as I’m so unfit it wasn’t easy.  It was great, just what I needed.  When the class ended I raced back to the crèche to check on T.  She was fine; sound asleep in fact, all tucked up in a blanket.

It turns out the pilates classes and crèche were part of a pilot scheme.  It’s been really popular so the organizers will formally launch it after half-term as a 10 week programme, participants can apply and will be selected at random.  I’ve put my name down and I’m keeping my fingers crossed. I’ll find out next week if we’ve been allocated a spot for T and I.

February 10, 2010. Exercise, Los Angeles.